Marital Mistakes
by WolfishMoon
Summary: Neville and Luna meet again at the 2014 Quidditch World Cup. Married to Rolf Scamander and Hanna Abott respectively, they are, at least, a semblance of happy. Reflections on life, the war, and the marriages that neither will even try to get out of. Rated T for theme.


So, I haven't been writing much lately. See, I used to have an iPhone, and I did all of my writing from that, but then I switched to the Galaxy SIII, and I love it, but it's not conducive to long spurts of writing. I haven't found a good processor, their notes section has a limited word capacity, and what word processor I found makes the keyboard ridiculously erratic, but I also got an internet hotspot that actually works _well _on my laptop and not just my moms, so I guess I should start posting from my virus ridden computer again.

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><p><em><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own <strong>_**Harry Potter**_** or any other company or corporation mentioned herein. Any similarity to real life people or products is entirely coincidental.**_

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><p>Marital Mistakes<p>

by: WolfishMoon

Word Count: 950

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><p>Neville looked at Hannah and smiled. He was happy, teaching herbology and living with the beautiful Hufflepuff. His wife had a square face with plump cheeks that easily flushed in times of excitement. Her figure was similarly pleasing, plump and curvaceous. However, the thing that Neville loved most was her kindness. She was passionate about the medicine she was studying (even going as far as reading muggle medical books), she adored people and would be an excellent mother if they ever got around to having kids. These qualities also made her a favorite barmaid. Drunks always want someone to listen to their scattered rambles and Hanna had the patience to do it.<p>

However, despite the apparent compatibility, as he sat in the VIP box at the Quidditch World Cup with all the old DA members, his eyes refused to stay fixed on the game. Luna Lovegood – _Scamander!_ - wore robes decorated with the flags of all sixteen competing nations, though England had the largest flag and was fixed on her upper back. Physically, she was opposite to Hannah in nearly every way. She was rail thin and her once pale skin was deep tan, almost too tan, from time spent in the sun. Her hair was a bright blonde to Hannah's auburn, eyes hazy blue to Hannah's sharp brown.

Luna's intelligence was captivating, though Hannah was certainly smart, and he couldn't help but compare the two. He raised his bottle of Ogden's to the peculiar blonde, she smiled and stood.

"Hello, Neville, Hannah. I do hope you're doing well," Luna said, voice sounding as warm, yet distant, as it always did. Neville nodded.

"Oh yes, quite well!" He was quick to respond, perhaps too quick. Hannah sent him a an inquiring glance before smiling at Luna.

"We just moved from the flat above the Leaky Cauldron and I've applied for Matron at Hogwarts," she bounced on the balls of her feet at the word 'Hogwarts.'

"Congratulations are in order then," Luna bobbed her head, smile flitting across her lips. Luna was always smiling, and it was testament to how closely Neville watched her that he could see the difference between her usual serenity and actual joy. His heart fluttered momentarily that he would ever warrant one of those fleeting smiles, even if they were quite frequent. No, he reminded himself, it was _Hannah _who warranted the little flicker. Except that she probably didn't even notice it.

Neville glanced from Luna to his wife, giving Hannah a brief, one-armed, squeeze over the shoulders. He really was proud of how far she'd come. Madam Longbottom, she'd be. Or perhaps she'd decide to go with Madam Abott. She did occasionally use her maiden name for business, after all, "Yeah, she's worked really hard and it's shown," he said.

Neville Longbottom really did love his wife. Just not quite in the way he should.

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><p>Luna clutched Rolf's hand. Just a week before, she and he had found the evidence needed to prove the existence of the Crumple-Horned Snorckack, and now she was writing a paper on the creature that would reveal her findings to the world. They were two happy magizoologists. Their shared passion held the pair together like glue. R + L. RL. Luna figured that if their first initials amounted to that of Remus Lupin, it had to mean something. Professor Lupin was the best defense professor she ever had, after all.<p>

On another note, Luna liked Quidditch, not as much as she loved research, but Luna liked Quidditch. Perhaps it was a mere vestige of her school days, a game that triggered warming memories of days long past. Those were days before she had even met Rolf. And those pre-Rolf days, somehow, contained the warmest memories of all that she possessed.

But Luna, even as prone to whimsy as she was, had a way of finding the heart of the matter. Those pre-Rolf days were perhaps warmest _because_ they were pre-Rolf. Despite his warm smile, despite his brilliant mind, despite the fact that Rolf was the best lab partner Luna could ever have hoped for, she was slowly realizing that perhaps Rolf wasn't the best choice of husband.

He was a wonderful husband, certainly. He was kind, intelligent, loyal, and almost as eccentric as she was, but as Luna thought back to those Quidditch-warm memories, there was always a certain Gryffindor who was prominent in them. Perhaps one would assume that his hair was black, his eyes green, that a slender scar adorned his forehead, but that was not the case. The boy – man, now – in her mind was brown haired, brown eyed, and taller than the somewhat stocky boy-who-lived. And he had been sitting on the other end of the VIP box, raising a bottle of Ogden's in her direction. She had to stifle a giggle. That _silly_ article of Rita's made her laugh. In Luna's mind, there was nothing at all wrong with enjoying some firewhiskey every once in a while, and Hannah worked in a bar.

Of course, as she thought back to her conversation with the Longbottoms, she also decided that perhaps it was the war that caused their penchant for alcohol. She herself rarely got drunk, but when she did, it was usually a drowning mechanism. Voldemort had shattered the minds of everyone involved. Luna was the most unscathed, mentally, but she'd always been a little crazy. Perhaps that had buffered her from the blow, somewhat. Subconsciously, she gripped Rolf's hand, and he smiled at her. She had no problem returning it.

Luna Lovegood Scamander really did love her husband. Just not quite in the way she should.

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><p>Ending AN: So this is probably the first _just _Harry Potter thing I've written, so I'd love your feedback. This is result of the recent "Rita Skeeter Article" that JKR posted on Pottermore, if you haven't read that, then this might be a little tricky to understand. My mom got it though, and she hates Harry Potter. So...

Anyway, this won't be continued. Neville and Luna don't get together. In the verse of this little oneshot, they will remain with Hannah and Rolf respectively because it's what they're used to and it does _sort of _make them happy. That is point. I've been reading and writing a lot of "that bleak reality" stuff lately. Of course, I'm a hardcore Luna/Neville shipper, mostly because of a fanfiction called _The Dead of Winter_ which is an HP/Bleach crossover by ForeverFalling86. It's not even Luna/Neville, it just made me ship it. If you like Toshiro Hitsugaya and don't mind minor (very minor) Dumbledore bashing go read that. It's very good. And this is too long, so I will conclude this ridiculous A/N here. REVIEW!


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